Temptations
by 6BlackHand9
Summary: With the Council of Heralds half a year passed and the Inquisition's disbandment soon after, Kristah Trevelyan finds herself struggling to adjust to her new civilian life and as a new wife. Ghosts from her past, both real and imagined begin to threaten the peace she may have found as the stays with Cullen's family in Ferelden.
1. Coffey on the Mile

*Author/Editor's note: I decided to make it so the POV was stated in the beginning of every chapter, just in case people were confused. Thank you for reading!

Coffey on the Mile

(Trevelyan)

Peace. That was what it was. I could almost hear it aloud – in the breeze. For whatever reason, it struck me just then how very foreign it all felt. Was there a time in my life where it existed? It must have, surely. I must have felt the tickle of pollen across my face, the warmth of the morning sun on my hair. A few seconds of thought and the only thing that resurfaced was the time Mother threw her first spring banquet. A bittersweet memory, one I had no interest of delving into.

Instead, I relished the present. A seemingly easy task, especially with Cullen by my side. Figuratively, of course. He actually was a few feet ahead of me, his very breath full of excitement. Even his horse, a sleek dappled equine, held his head attentively despite the past week of rigorous travel. My own steed was a powerful war horse, the only one I cared to keep despite a stable-full of beautiful beasts given as gifts from nearly every noble in Orlais and Ferelden. He and I had ridden into many battles. Battles with monsters and men alike, friends and foes. We both shared scars from those times together and I had chosen him to bring with me, in hopes we'd find peace together.

Did horses carry scars from the battles as humans did? I dropped my gaze to his neatly braided mane, a jagged ridge lined down his powerful neck. That was from the night of the ambush, back in Sarnhia. Blood splattered against icy rock, turning black in the moonlight. Red eyes smoldered like coals so deep in their skulls, it was hard to believe they were human at any point in their life. Frantically dodging their manic swings, my heart pounded as I felt the air slice around me. Varric was injured, I could see Dorian keeping two of them off with his corpse warriors. It was too dark, any miscalculation and one of my friends would be the ones taking the blow. My hand raised and I begged the Maker I didn't miss…

"All well?"

I blinked, willing myself to focus. I hadn't even noticed Cullen had stopped completely, his steed half turned toward me. Instinctively my back straightened, letting my horse slow to a stop beside him. His attention did not waver. It was hard to miss the concern pooling beneath his golden gaze. My insides twisted at the sight of it, which seemed to happen more and more. I pushed the feeling as far down as I could and met his gaze evenly.

"Of course." I gave him my most convincing smile, teeth and all, "Just… living the dream."

We stopped at the center of a pristine meadow, one of many since we first entered Ferelden's flatlands. Green, rolling hills speckled with deciduous trees, tall and proud. We had already passed more than a dozen fields of wildflowers, some blazing red and others a dashing violet. The nearest village was at least a half day of travel away and this path was small and overgrown, leaving this patch of land practically untouched. Ferelden was full of places like these, stunning expanses of nature. Yet, this was the first time in my entire life I was able to fully appreciate how simple life could be. No allegiances, no duty, no darkspawn, no evil magisters – or any combination of the sort. Just the aroma of the wild flowers and the warmth on my face. Truly living the dream.

…Right?

"I don't believe I have ever met another person so close, yet so far away as you, love." Cullen remarked lightly, a half smile on his face when I turned to him. Of course he saw past my poor façade. I gave him a chagrined smile in return, more amused than embarrassed at being caught.

"Forgive me, I just… " I trailed off, cringing at how formal my response was. Cullen was already waving off my apology.

"Your mind wanders, I have always known that." His eyes rested on me as gently as the sun's rays, "You have been distracted. Are you alright?"

Were it anyone other than Cullen, I might have been irritated. It was the worst type of question to ask and the worst type of question to answer truly. But he knew who I was, how I am. I knew that he was looking for answers, looking to help. I couldn't be angry at him for that.

I sighed, slowly and consciously. Sometimes it's easy to forget the past four years we spent together- working, plotting, fighting. I was so used to pushing my issues away that I kept forgetting that I was supposed to deal with them at some point. To my defense, I had been trying.

"I'm fine, Cullen." I insisted softly, though his lips pursed at the response, "Really, I just… I'm adjusting." A quick pause, as I glanced down, "It's a little more… strange than I imagined. But I'm coming to terms with it." A thoughtful frown came upon him as he digested my words.

It was the last thing I wanted, to bring him down with my weighty thoughts. Ever since the Council of Heralds and the whole mess that came with it, I knew he was determined to never miss a thing I might hide away in my broken, little head. It was my fault, of course. After the stunt I pulled, after everything I had put him through, I couldn't blame him. Ever since, I wanted to make it up to him. I'd never forget how his face lit up after I suggested we stay with his family for a while. His eagerness since then was undeniable. I hated to be the one that would worry him once again.

But the voice was always there, whispering into my head. Trouble never stays down for good. The ghosts of my now expansive past would try to warp what good I had now into another nightmare. With the peace and relief of being with Cullen and not having an entire country resting on my shoulders, there was also the underlying fear. I prayed to the Maker that Cullen could not sense it.

"We knew this wouldn't be easy." he murmured, each word slow and deliberate, "But you can surpass this, whatever this is you're dealing with. You always have."

_ Have I?_

I sighed, "We should keep moving."


	2. Riding Horses

Riding Horses

(CULLEN)

"Uncle!"

My lips curved happily at the young boy's cry. What a relief to see the house whole and intact. After being surrounded by so much destruction for what felt like forever, seeing my sister's home unscathed felt like stepping directly into a memory. The wood-paneled cottage and charming, little garden sitting beside the house was a welcome change after trudging through the obscene wealth and shine of the Winter Palace.

Willum must have been keeping a sharp eye out for me since not even Branson had noticed my arrival. Leaning against the door frame, he at last glanced my way as his boy bounded over, corn silk locks bouncing all about. I caught Branson's eye as I rode up and he smirked, turning to call someone.

"Uncle Cully!" Willum pranced around my horse, along with the hounds, "Uncle! Auntie Mia has been teaching me new tricks on the battle board. She says I'm so good that I can even beat you now!"

"Is that so?" I chuckled.

The door to the farmhouse swung open and out came Mia, as impatient as always. Her hair tied back into a messy bun and her apron stained with what I could only assume was half of tonight's supper. She was an absolute mess, but the smile she wore at the sight of me could light up the sky. My chest swelled with joy.

"It's about time you showed!" she crowed, still managing to sound like her know-it-all self. I slid off my horse, carefully avoiding Will and the trio of hounds jumping at my feet. Bran stayed by the door with his half smile as Mia ran into my arms. For a second, I felt like the past decades were only a dream. I was a scrawny, blonde boy hugging his big sister. Mother was milking our only sow while Father attempted to wrangle that damn rooster that somehow always escaped the coop. For a few seconds, I was home.

"Maker, I've missed you." I sighed, pulling back to smile affectionately at her. Mia beamed.

"And I you." She returned warmly, and then her smile faltered slightly, "The Inquisitor…?"

"On her way." I quickly reassured, "She stayed a bit longer in the village nearby, but she should be here before supper. And she prefers Kristah, as you know." Mia visibly relaxed.

"Yes, yes, slip of the tongue. Excellent! It is comforting to know we won't be dining alone after all. I spent nearly all morn' fixing up the place…"

I smothered a chuckle. Mia's version of 'cleaning up the place' meant refreshing all the wilted flowers in the vases and wiping the dust off the windowsills. The three of us moved into the cottage, Willum's beaming face locked on anyone who spoke, although I doubt he had any real interest in what was being said.

"Lady Krissy is coming too?" Will cried, jumping and pulling at my shirt.

"She is." Giving in, I bent down to lift the boy in my arms. Maker, what an overgrown child.

"And I suppose Rosie and I are not counted as company, sister." Branson remarked wryly, strolling over with a raised brow. I looked over to him, memorizing every part of him. Bran was always viewed as the held-back version of me. While he resembled more of my mother and I my father, people often liked to confuse us when we were young. Even so, there was no missing the slight hollow look in his eyes. An ever-present reminder.

"How are you, Bran?" I asked gently, Willum's arms wrapped tightly around my neck. He shifted his weight between his feet.

"All is well," he scratched his head, glancing away, "Willum grows an inch weekly, makes me think he'll be taller than you soon." Our eyes met once more, his expression relaxing, "It's good to see you in one piece, brother."

"Likewise." I nodded to him, turning my attention around me, but yet nothing in particular. The house reeked of onion and basil, making me wonder when the was the last time Mia had made some sort of roast that didn't turn out like a piece of coal. And, now that I focused on it, the house had actually looked pretty organized. Bran must have helped move the furniture around. Last time I came, Willum had begun his cow dung collecting and pieces of it were everywhere.

"I had no idea what to expect when I was on my way here, to be honest." I admitted, shaking my head. After everything that's been happening- impending destruction and such - I'm relieved to see this place untouched by it all."

Mia had already returned to violently whisking the soup pot in the kitchen, half turning to scoff, "Cullen, you are the only one exposed to this impending destruction you speak of. I can only imagine the Inquisitor was the one smack in the middle of it all. And now that you mention it, the rumors of what happened at this supposed Council have ranged from Qunari wars to secret elven cults. What was all that about?"

I frowned, putting Will down, to his displeasure. I knew this would be a topic of discussion, but the reminder regurgitated the twisting pain that was all too familiar. The Council of Heralds was now one of my darkest memories, alongside my time in the Ferelden Circle. Seeing Kristah battle against so much and then keep it from me all the while, it made me angry in the most painful way. In the way where I asked myself where I could have went wrong. She was so close to being lost to me forever. It still ached deeply whenever I remembered that moment she said goodbye, accepting a fate once unimaginable to me when we married a few days before. But she kept her promise…

I took a calming breath. She came back.

"Cullen?" Bran murmured, returning me to the present. I glanced over to him, unable to hide my haunted look.

"Is everything alright? What happened during this Council?" he asked softly. Mia, overhearing the worry in Bran's voice, immediately turned her attention over to me. She was relentless when it came to her mission to root out every single problem in my life. It always became her business.

"Cullen?" she pressed with a look that would make any interrogator jealous, "What's the matter?"

I rolled my eyes, a weak attempt to placate them, "It's. . . _Nothing_ is the matter." Mia snorted, exasperated.

"Maker's breath, Cullen! I see working with spies and soldiers alike made you no better at lying."

Bran chuckled, "And Rosie thought you were a quick learner."

"Listen," I retorted, nervous irritation seeping into my voice now, "I appreciate the sentiment, but there is nothing to concern yourselves right now. The Council was. . . a mess, to say the least. But things are okay now." It was about as good a lie as I've ever told. Bran sighed and turned away, but Mia was still not convinced, nor would she be until I explained every troublesome detail. I will have to think of a reasonable explanation soon. Especially before Kristah returned.

Just then, the sound of horse hoofs thundering down the path reached them. My heart raced. Could Kristah have returned so quickly? But Will had been losing interest in our conversation and kept peeking out the window, allowing him to identify the newcomers upon arrival.

"Auntie Rosie's here!" he cried, equally as happily as when I arrived. He raced outside to greet her, Bran following close behind. Mia, still glaring at me from our conversation, glanced away quickly but returned her gaze to me.

She leaned forward, "You can't push this away, Cullen." She murmured. While the words were threatening, I clearly read the worry beneath them. I will have to think of something to tell her, and soon.


	3. Foolishment

Foolishment

(TREVELYAN)

"We're close, aren't we?" I asked aloud, pulling my horse to a stop.

In response, Hannes circled me excitedly. With an encouraging bark, he bounded a few feet away, slowing just before where the ground sloped downwards. Below us, the grassy hill gradually fell into a muddy trench before melting into the Drakon River. Eyes narrowing, I slid off my horse and inched forward to peer down into the wet area. While the slope was not incredibly steep, it was the trench below that concerned me.

The river sat calm, but full. However, this particular area must have been a flooding risk. The mud was deceptively solid. In the sunlight, one could easily spot the various spots of different-colored soil, and the danger of slipping into the wrong area. Who knew how many animals and people fell in and were never able to escape the grasping force of the mud.

Hannes had wandered the hill as I studied the area, breaking my thoughts as he suddenly raced back, barking enthusiastically. Good news? Breaking into a jog, I followed him farther down. The hill curved, hiding another steeper slope where more mud lay at the bottom. It was there, I could see it.

A lamb, legs completely engulfed by the mud, leaned against its side at the center of the muddy pit. Clearly visible, even from here, was its vividly blue neck-scarf, our final confirmation it was who we were looking for. How this little thing wandered so far from the village was a question for another time. Hannes turned to me with small, brown-eyed curiosity.

"Stay here." I commanded, hurrying to my horse's side once more. I only had one pack of things I needed, and below that sat my staff. I untied it from my horse's rear and let my mana flow within it. I had lost count of how many staffs I owned back in Skyhold. Surprisingly, this was the one staff that had never seen battle. It was a simple oak staff with a totem at its top, the only stones were in the totem's eyes. They glowed with power then, feeling the effect of my mana quickly. What a strange conversation Cullen and I had when deciding which weapons to keep. Of course I kept my most powerful staffs: the one that killed Corypheus and a few others. As I packed them, Cullen asked that we just have them sent to our new estate in Kirkwall for a while and to just keep one when going home. My initial instinct was to insist we have a proper means of defense should something go wrong, but the unspoken words on his face kept me quiet.

So here I was resigned with this mage novice's staff, but it would do the job. I took and leveled breath and carefully found the closest grips in the soil to reach the mud without actually touching it. I was halfway down the hill when the lamb bleated weakly at the sight of me. Its little head visibly trembled, the only still white part of its wool sat along its back.

"It's okay, little one." I murmured, gripping my staff and planting my feet. It was a rather simple spell, to be honest. With as much magical placidity as I could, I waved the staff in one slow movement to my left. Immediately, like a wave upon the ocean, the dense mud flowed in the same direction. The lamb gave a few panicked bleats as the soil around it swelled and floated it toward a less steep slope with more grip. I felt my teeth unclench as the youngling's little body lay on solid ground, only then realizing my jaw was sore from tightly clenching. With a soft exhale, I lowered the staff, mana now dissipating just as easily as it grew.

Hannes jumped about the lamb, scaring the poor thing but its little legs too weak to run off. A sharp whistle from me and he promptly left it alone as I hurried to retrieve it. As cold and tired as it was, there were no more fearful cries once I wrapped it in a wool coat I had. Within a few seconds of riding toward the village, it sat comfortably by my side, wide brown eyes watching the world go by.

The boy and his family had been so overjoyed when I showed up at their door half-covered in mud and their lamb in hand. It took them about twelve times of me telling them there was no repayment needed before they finally accepted such. Regardless, I found myself riding in the direction of Mia's farm with a two baskets of honey, fruit and mead. It was such a lovely gift that I even considered telling Cullen that I bought them for his family rather than saying what I actually did. I already knew what this small act of kindness to this family would cost me in the long run.

Sobering, I raised my attention to the blazing orange skies. There was no denying the high of being able to bring another person peace or happiness, but it was different this time. Being Inquisitor, I could tell myself that the high was only a side effect of what I truly was meant to do. Saving the smallest village to Orlais itself, it was just part of the job forced onto me. Now, here I was, just a strange woman that spent the morning going about the nearest villages to find some way to get that familiar relieving feeling. All the while, my husband and his family were probably waiting for me back at the farmhouse. I dropped my head. What the hell was I even doing?


	4. The Slopes of Blessure

The Slopes of Blessure

(CULLEN)

"Cullen!" Rosie's shrill cry was nearly deafening as she swung open the door and charged toward me.

"Good t-" My lukewarm greeting was quickly cut off as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed as hard as she could. Following behind with a polite smile was a man dressed in what looked like the latest fashion in the Free Marches. He was a strange combination of black lined fur sleeves connected to a blouse frilled beyond count. Rosie was dressed similarly, but with more womanly sensibilities that fit her very well. Particularly the forest green dress that draped about her skinny limbs complemented her dirty blonde waves very nicely. Mia watched with satisfaction as Rosie simultaneously tried her best to crush me while jumping in place.

"O-okay," I coughed, gently prying her arms from me, "It's good to see you too, Ro." As expected, her face fell into a pouty frown, taking a deliberate step back as Mia and Bran laughed from the sidelines.

"Not even a minute of seeing you and you have to bring up that horrible nickname." She complained, but the growing smile on my face only widened.

"Forgive me, I couldn't help myself." I apologized with a ruffle of her hair.

"Not forgiven." She answered promptly before spinning around and linking her arm with the man behind her. That's when our eyes met. The man reflexively bowed in greeting, as if the simple contact had jarred him.

"Ah, Commander Cullen! It's a pleasure to meet you, I – I mean I've heard much about you, of course. Everyone has!" He had the tone of a man who was talked down to for most of his life, words bursting out of him in uncertain jumbles.

Mia pressed herself at my side, "I forgot you two hadn't met. This is Mason Gilroy, professor at the collegiate in Ostwick, as well as Rosie's beau." That much was obvious. The way she clung onto the man's arm, resting her delicate head on his shoulder, was a flash from the past when she first brought home a poor boy to decorate beside him. Father had scared the poor boy to death, and sent Rosie to the barn for cleaning for the next week. She was six.

Mason shifted, his polite smile wavering nervously, "Ah, well professor-in-training is a better term for it. The Duke Harris Collegiate had only just opened this year after the Duke's funding finished its final construction. But… yes, I work there."

"We both do now." Rosie gave a little jump at the declaration. Out of habit, I outstretched my hand.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Glad to see someone taking care of her, despite her 'eccentricities'." The man took my hand eagerly, both of us ignoring Rosie's pointed frown, "And Cullen is fine. My commander days have reached their end for a while now."

"Of course."

Mia glanced out the window, "Sunset is nearly here, do you think Kristah will be long? The food is nearly ready." Once again, my stomach sunk a little at her mention. With everyone here, it was the best time to let them know about Kristah before their raw reactions made everything messed up. With a sigh, I looked about the room. Mason, in particular, stiffened his back, his face flushing.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan will be joining us as well?"

"You're going to love her!" Rosie smiled warmly at him, stroking a lock of hair beside his ear.

"Ah, that reminds me…" My unsure words immediately caught everyone's attention, even Willum as he played with Rosie's velvet dress.

Mia placed herself directly in front of me, "Cullen?"

"It's – It's not bad. Or - I mean, Kristah is okay." I cursed my foolish mouth as it stumbled for words.

"What are you talking about?" Rosie cocked her head. Gulping, I tried again.

"I'm not sure if word had reached you, but the Council of Heralds resulted in a lot of things… one of which included Kristah losing her arm." Even I could tell how boorish it sounded, but even more so to everyone else, I was sure. Their expressions ranged from utter bewilderment to pity, save for Willum who had quickly returned his focus to the dress. Mia was the first to speak.

"She… lost her arm at the Council?" she repeated softly, "Sweet Maker, we had no idea."

Rosie's lips parted as if ready to cry, "Was it painful? I hope it didn't hurt…"

"Kristah is fine now." I tried my best to reassure them, although it sounded strangely reminiscent of when I try to convince myself, "But… but sometimes she feels rather… inadequate because of it. I wanted to give you all a heads up before she came just so I could ask you to not pry about the ordeal, or how it happened. But also don't treat her like she is incapable. As a favor to me."

"Of course, of course!" Rosie nodded, "It's none of our business; we won't disrespect the Inquisitor that way."

"Just Kristah is fine." The reply came as automatic as always, but the stress of giving them a proper warning before Kristah arrived had finally dissipated. Murmurs of agreement came from everyone except for Mia, but I was pretty sure I was the only one who noticed. Our eyes met and her expression was one of hard thinking. Bran suddenly stretched and yawned, changing the conversation.

"Now that everyone is almost here, we can set the table before I fall asleep out of hunger."

"How is that even possible?" Rosie scoffed, but followed his lead toward the kitchen to bring the dishes. I followed suit, exchanging friendly looks with Mason as he did the same. However, I didn't miss Mia's serious look as her eyes followed me into the kitchen.


End file.
